


The Perils of Dealing with Angels

by stickdonkeys



Series: The Perils of Dealing [3]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Angels are bad at feelings, Existential Crisis, F/M, Family Drama, Gifts arent always gifts, God's A+ Parenting, Relationship Negotiation, Unplesant reunions
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:49:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25171162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickdonkeys/pseuds/stickdonkeys
Summary: Chloe and Lucifer are home. Cain is dead. They've worked through some of their trauma related to the kidnapping and imprisonment. Now, a surprise visit from Lucifer's twin throws yet another wrench into the cogs of their relationship. As they attempt to process the new information and what it means for their futures, it leaves them wondering if dealing with evil and what came afterwards wasn't easier.
Relationships: Chloe Decker/Lucifer Morningstar, Mazikeen & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Michael & Lucifer Morningstar (Lucifer TV), Trixie Espinoza & Lucifer Morningstar
Series: The Perils of Dealing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1692859
Comments: 83
Kudos: 200





	1. You Really Thought That This Would be Easy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back folks. This chapter was a bit of a struggle but here it is. Next one is partially written and there are vague drafts after that. Enjoy :)

Chloe Decker had seen and done many odd things the past two weeks (really the last few years if she was being honest). Things that had you told her two weeks ago they were going to occur, she'd've had you committed. But even finding out that her ex-fiance was the biblical Cain and her partner was the literal Devil, who had dared to defy God himself, had been easier to comprehend than the scene before her. Lucifer, the king of both Hell and “only touch me if it’s for sex” was embracing a mirror image of himself in the breakroom of Lux. His twin, who had broken his wings and thrown him from Heaven, Michael.Two world-endingly powerful archangels attempting to mend a bond broken between heaven and hell before humanity was a species, while she, a lowly human ("miracle” status notwithstanding) watched them do it. 

As the hug between the twin estranged archangels continued, Chloe began to shift uncomfortably. Neither of them seemed to be inclined to release the other and it flew in the face of everything she knew about her partner. Lucifer was not a hugger, or a crier. The only times she had seen him weep before this had been during their capture and imprisonment when he was in unbearable pain and great duress. But here he was clinging to his twin, weeping and hugging him. She wasn’t uncomfortable with the brotherly affection, she was a cop and accustomed to male bonding, No, it was the dichotomy between what she knew of him and what she was seeing that caused her discomfort. She felt as if it was private, something she wasn’t meant to see.

Not that they had many secrets anymore. Cain had seen to that, trapping them together for almost a week with nothing to do for entertainment but to talk. They had also seen terrible things done to the other, she’d nearly been killed and he systematically tortured. They’d both seen the other desperate, livid, paranoid and terrified but through it all she'd never seen him broken. He'd borne it all with the long-suffering resignation of someone accustomed to mistreatment, pride and determination seeing him through it. The same way he'd apparently reacted to being tortured and thrown from his home millenia ago by the same twin he was hugging. Proud, stoic, indignant, pleading at times but not broken. Never broken.

Even so, she had no doubt that this was what broken looked like. Not that Michael looked any better. Lucifer wasn't the only one clinging or weeping. She knew that he'd said he was sorry and that God had made him do it (and wasn't that an ironic twist on Lucifer's most-hated phrase) but despite her earlier words in his favor she wasn't sure that she trusted him. Not after what Lucifer had said he had done. She had known it was bad, but he had _definitely_ glossed over the details when he'dtold her. Now that she knew exactly what the fall had entailed it was particularly damning for the rest of Lucifer's family, God included. And while she was happy that their meeting hadn't ended in armageddon, she wasn't comfortable with how quickly Lucifer had literally and figuratively embraced his brother who had hurt him so profoundly. 

After about the fourth time she shifted her weight, Michael's head shot up and his eyes shot to her face with an expression that she couldn't place but was definitely akin to hostility. She froze, every nerve in her body firing at the danger that gaze promised, Lucifer's warning about what Michael was capable of ringing in her ears, drowning out everything else. And then confusion took the place of hostility and his golden wings disappeared faster than she could process. They were there and then, the barest movement of his shoulders (not the full roll Lucifer did. Of course he was more dramatic than strictly necessary) and they were gone.

Lucifer pulled back when he felt Michael stiffen and glanced over his shoulder at Chloe with a small smile. She tried to return in but couldn't get her face to work properly after her staring contest with his twin. Lucifer's expression darkened and he made his way toward her, intending to check her for injuries because she was clearly shaken and not alright. Had Michael been nothing more than a distraction so another of his siblings could harm her? And he’d welcomed him with open arms, literally. He growled as he lividly stalked towards her and suddenly Michael was between them, his hands hovering over Lucifer's chest looking as if he wanted to restrain his brother but wasn’t certain if he was allowed to initiate contact.

"Please," he whispered, his hazel eyes lit with an emotion Lucifer couldn’t place. "Don't hurt her. Jane is the human who helped me find you. She knows not what she intruded upon. Allow me to erase her memories of us and I'll send her on her way."

"You bloody well will not!" Lucifer snapped, his eyes flashing red at the idea of Michael messing around in Chloe's mind. "You’ll not lay a hand on her body or mind. I want peace with you, Brother, but I won't allow it."

"Sa--Lucifer, look at her," he said sadly. "The poor thing is petrified. It would be kinder to erase the knowledge of divinity and allow Jane to live her life in blissful ignorance." Lucifer looked away. He couldn't argue that it wouldn't be kinder and if she ever asked, he would do it in a heartbeat, but she hadn't. And he would never allow such a choice to be made without her consent. But if she wanted the memories gone . . . The very idea pained him so he shifted to an easier topic; who the hell was Jane?

"Why are you calling her Jane?" Lucifer demanded. He almost laughed at the open confusion in his brother's face. Millenia older than he had been and Michael still hadn't learned to control his expressions. _Because he never had to hide his weaknesses. He never went through Hell,_ a bitter voice whispered in Lucifer's mind. A reminder that twins or not, they were no longer nearly as similar as they once had been. His amusement faded as rapidly as it came. Replaced instead by loss and resentment. 

"It's her name?" Michael said, his confusion deepening, at the same time Chloe explained, "I told him it was my name. I didn't know what he knew and didn't want him to know who I was if he meant us harm if he did know who I am which clearly he doesn't." Lucifer smiled warmly at his brilliant detective thinking of subterfuge in the moment like that while Michael sputtered.

"But it was true," Michael demanded, looking between the two of them incredulously. "I sensed no lie. No mortal can lie to me and few amongst the host. She told the truth when she said her name is Jane."

"Brother, meet Chloe _Jane_ Decker, my partner," Lucifer replied, moving beside Chloe to tuck her against his side. "And you'll be surprised what this particular _miracle_ can do."

“Amenidiel mentioned something about a Chloe and a miracle. He also said something about her being immune to your divinity. I wonder,” Michael said pensively before catching her eyes with his own, staring at her again in that way that made her feel as though he was stripping her soul down to it’s individual particles. Even with Lucifer beside her again, it made her uncomfortable, wondering just what he was seeing and what he planned to do with whatever it was. And then that discomfort was pushed underneath a desire to tell him everything. Even though she wanted to fight him, she couldn’t break free from his gaze, his hazel eyes capturing her and pulling her in like black holes, demanding that she bare her soul, reveal all her flaws, all she needed was the command. Suddenly she found herself hoping for the chance to unburden herself, ease a weight she hadn’t even known had been there. The air felt too thick and she knew that speaking would lighten it again and then there was a wall of white between her and Michael.

“Stop, Michael,” Lucifer snapped, wrapping a wing around her and breaking their eye contact. He peeked under it and saw Chloe shaking her head repeatedly, breathing heavily. “Are you alright, Love?” he muttered, stroking her cheek. She looked at him exhaling shakily.

“Wha-what was that?” she breathed, blinking rapidly and looking at him in confusion. “Did he just--”

“You just got mojo’d, Darling,” Lucifer said with a nod and a tight smile “That’s what the desire question feels like for everyone who isn’t you.” She groaned, shaking her head.

“That was unpleasant,” she said, rubbing her forehead. “Should we really be doing that to get confessions out of people?” She would never say it to him, but that was a bit antithetical to his freewill motto.

“They’re criminals or at least guilty of something,” Lucifer said with a shrug. “I hold no power over those with no guilt. The ones who don’t feel guilt or don't feel it as strongly are the complicated ones. And there’s no lasting effects. You’ll be right as rain in just a bit. Even so, stay out of her head!” This last was said with a shift of focus back to Michael who was standing to the side watching their exchange. 

“What is she to you?” Michael demanded, watching the way Lucifer doted on her in ways he had only ever treated the youngest of their siblings, his large frame curled around her protectively. His very posture promising retaliation, to the point that Michael was reluctant to move for risk of provoking him. In fact, they both seemed tense and anxious with a mutual protectiveness he had never seen in his siblings.

“My partner,” Lucifer said, his words short, sharp things that welcomed no further questions. “And as such entitled to my protection. As I’ve said, she and her mind are off limits. You may have whatever knowledge she chooses to impart. No more.” 

Chloe wanted to resent Lucifer claiming her like a pet but she couldn’t bring herself to argue, not now that she understood. Michael hadn’t said a damn word and her brain turned to mush in his hands. She shuddered as she wondered just what else the archangel was capable of and wished that she didn’t feel better when Lucifer’s arm came around her shoulder and pulled her more snugly against him, still cocooned beneath his wing. 

“You hate humans,” Michael said simply as if that was an immutable fact. "What makes her special?"

“Resented,” Lucifer corrected. “And that too is in the past. Humans are fun for the most part. Creative, full of vice, full of _sin_. Delightful. So many desires. So many choices.” Michael stared at him for a moment as if seeing him for the first time before he shook his head looking sad.

“You’ve changed, Sam. Lucifer, I apologize,” Michael corrected quickly. “I feel like I do not know you.” Lucifer scoffed before a bitter laugh bubbled up.

“You don’t,” he said with another short laugh. “I’m not who I was all those eons ago. I’m not Samael. You and our family saw to that. Hell saw to that. Anything you think you know about me, forget it. I am not the naive archangel who was led into a trap and allowed my family to pin me and attempt to break me. I’m the Devil, the king of hell, Michael. I will not be dominated again.” He purposefully shifted his eyes to hellfire, summoning blue flames to his free hand to demonstrate his point.

“I’ve apologized for that,” Michael said, his tone bordering on resentment. He both couldn't stand to see his brother wreathed in the cold fires of Hell, eyes ablaze, and couldn't bring himself to look away.

“And you think that makes it better?!” Lucifer roared the flames surging around him. He rubbing Chloe’s arm soothingly, wishing he could apologize to her as she jumped at his raised voice. Instead, he sighed, making an attempt to modulate his tone. “Do you think an apology exonerates you? It doesn’t. I still don’t trust you. I’ve missed you but you are not forgiven. I don’t trust you.”

“I’d hoped,” Michel started, looking down at the floor, his expression crestfallen. Lucifer couldn’t help it, he laughed. A cruel, mocking sound that raised the hairs on Chloe's neck.

“What? That you’d tell me you’re sorry, I’d tell you I forgive you for betraying me, we’d hug it out and everything would be just like it was before you and Dad cocked it up?” Lucifer demanded. Michael looked up at him with hope lighting his face and Lucifer was disgusted by just how open and willing to show his emotions his sheltered, favored twin still was. A sign of how open he had once been before Hell and Michael beat it from him. 

“You really thought it would be that easy, Michael?” Lucifer scoffed, extinguishing the fire to pinch the bridge of his nose with the hand that wasn’t holding Chloe, who was now stroking soothing, distracting circles on his chest. “You thought that you’d just flutter down here and we’d go back to how we were eons ago?” Michael nodded and suddenly Lucifer was unbearably sad. Michael really thought that was how this world worked. You repent and you are forgiven. For all that his eons in Hell had been miserable, Lucifer saw that in a way they had been a boon. Once he had been that naive. That forgiveness was an “ask and ye shall receive thing.” He deflated with a sight.

“As I said, Michael,” he whispered, knowing that his brother would hear. “I don’t trust you. I don’t forgive you but I would . . . I have missed you. I assume that you want to attempt to reestablish a relationship?" He waited for the expected nod before continuing, "I thought as much. I am willing to offer you a trial basis. Now ground-rules; you are not welcome in my home or club. We will meet on neutral ground. Chloe, her child and the rest of my human friends are off limits. Mazikeen is off limits. You will not pop in on me unannounced. Do we have an accord?” Michael nodded, knowing that this would have to be on his twin’s terms. At least some things hadn’t changed. And he owed Lucifer that much.

“Since I am unwelcome here, will you aid me in acquiring lodging? I intend to stay on Earth for the time being,” Michael said, wanting Lucifer to see his dedication to the cause, committing to life on Earth for the foreseeable future.

“Stay here and I’ll make a call,” Lucifer said, ushering Chloe towards the door. “And don’t bother my staff.” Lucifer's hand was already in his pocket fishing out his phone to make the call before the were out of the breakroom. Just before the door closed Michael's voice wafted through.

"It was nice to meet you, Chloe Jane, I hope we get to speak again soon," his tone was bright and warm. And she knew it was just the lingering unsettled feeling of being mojo'd but it felt like there was an undercurrent of threat to his words. She turned to Lucifer, but apparently it was just her. He was no more troubled than he has been (and she had no doubt that, vague or not, further threats to her would have made it worse) and he smiled a wide, fake smile as his call went through. 

"Hello Doctor," he purred. "Up for company?"


	2. Boarding Your Angel

Lucifer wasn't even off the phone before Chloe was looking at him incredulously. Her expression made it clear that he was making some egregious error but she had yet to voice it. And he wasn't sure what it was but had little doubt that she would disclose it. 

"Yes, Doctor, see you shortly," he said, raising an eyebrow at Chloe's vehement head shake and hanging up. "What is it, love?" Her blue eyes flickered towards the door and she stared at him, intense concentration crossing her face before her thoughts, shot through with discomfort, apprehension and suspicion, wafted across his mind. _Can he hear us?_

"Yes, Darling," he agreed. "It's just a door and not a particularly good one. You wouldn't have to be an archangel to hear through that." The look of concentration again and he prepared himself for more prayers. Even as part of his being soared at the use after eons of neglect, his conscience mind was uncomfortable with it. Using prayer, something established by his Father to facilitate communication between the Host regardless of distance, flew in the face of everything he had tried to do to distance himself from the archangel Samael. Prayer, like his wings were of his Father, not the Devil. But for her he had been using both of late and it made him question just what he was doing. Using his wings, answering prayers, _hugging_ Michael. What in Hell’s name was happening? And then her words were there intruding on the silence of his mind, filling a void he had forgotten existed after eons alone and hadn't had the leisure to explore enough to be comfortable with since their capture. 

_We need to talk. Privately,_ she prayed. The same distrust and discomfort were present laced with something bordering on fear, but the trepidation that filled him at her words wasn't hers, it was his. 'We need to talk'. In his experience, those words rarely ended well. Even so, he nodded, hoping that Michel's appearance hadn't ruined what they were working towards. The proverbial straw on the load of issues and revelations in their recent, shared history. He opened his arms and wondered if he was misreading her intentions when she stepped willingly into them, embracing him and rubbing her cheek on his chest before he visualized their beach and took them there. She shook her head, stepping back and looking vaguely nauseous.

"I'm never going to get used to that," she muttered, dropping to the sand with a groan. "Humans aren't meant to teleport, Lucifer."

"If you weren't allowed to teleport then I wouldn't be able to bring you along," he sighed, sitting beside her and wrapping his arms around his knees, the sand beneath him holding the heat of the day despite the loss of the sun. "You'd just stay where last we were."

"Know that from experience?" Chloe asked, curious who-or what-he'd unsuccessfully tried to teleport. He nodded but didn't offer further information. 

He was pensive, watching the waves break on the sand in the moonlight as the memories of Lilith's earlier days in Hell assailed him. The repeated births of demons conceived by divine curse. Her agony, her hatred. Her begging him to do _something_. He'd tried, but there was nothing he could do and she'd grown to hate him as well. Yet more fallout of his Father's choices that he was required to bear the brunt of. Then modern medicine had peaked and he'd tried to bring her topside for a hysterectomy thinking that no uterus, nowhere to carry demons, no demonic births. It hadn't worked. She'd been cradled in his arms but he'd arrived alone and returned to hell for her to rail at him for getting her hopes up for nothing. She'd left him then. Just as Chloe was likely to do now. 

"What was it that we had to discuss outside of Michael's hearing, Detective?" he asked, not looking at her but continuing to stare at the dark ocean. He was glad he wasn't when he heard her sigh, a weighty thing. It spoke of disappointment and he knew from experience that what was to follow would not be an easy conversation. 

"Back to that again?" She muttered, threading her arm through his and leaning against his shoulder. "Why do you always …" she trailed off and he could almost hear her mind working, thoughts and pieces and clues slotting into place as she figured him out. It was unnerving. And then she pulled away. As he knew she would. But rather than walk away, she moved in front of him, knees on either side of his feet, hands on his knees and her chin on her hands, looking at him with such sad eyes that he wanted to do anything she asked to fix whatever was wrong.

"This isn't _that_ talk, Lucifer," she said softly. "I'm not leaving you. It's not like I didn't know that your family is the definition of dysfunctional or that they… that they…what Michael did.. " she trailed off, righteous indignation burning in her eyes before they closed and a single tear fell down her cheek.

"It's alright, love," he soothed, moving to wipe it away. "I'm alright."

"You're not," she whispered, eyes flicking open oozing contrition as he flinched. "I love you but you're not alright. If you were alright, what just happened wouldn't have. You wouldn't have assumed that I was going to leave you when you’d done nothing wrong. You wouldn’t … But after what I just heard … Lucifer Morningstar, you are amazing. Bloody brilliant even. What they did to you, what _he_ did … I can't forgive him, Lucifer and I don't like him. Any of them. And if what he said was true and your Dad ordered it then He's a sadistic bastard and I'd rather go to Hell than share space with Him."

"Don't," he said softly, pulling his knees more tightly against his chest, her body moving with his so that they were only inches apart. "Please don't wish Hell on yourself. I already told you how it would go. That would break me in ways the Host and legions of demons have failed, Chloe. Besides, you're unlikely to see Him in Heaven, though apparently you might see me."

"So, when he said the ban was lifted?" She began, only to stop when he nodded.

"The atomic bomb of a blessing Mazikeen sensed was Father lifting my ban from the Silver City and visitation by the host," he agreed, still not sure how he felt about that bit of divine intervention. "I can follow you to Heaven to visit when you die. If you want to die, that is. We've already established that for you that is optional. If you still desire my presence when you do die, that is. If you don't I will honor that. Just because I _can_ go to the Silver City, it doesn't mean I _have_ to go. Or desire to do so, really. Quite a few unpleasant memories there." 

She flinched as the memories he had shared with Michael of the fall invaded her mind, her own memories of his pain providing audio and visual to the story. It made her sick. And an archangel had done that. Just for him wanting to make choices. Her fury at the injustice of it flooded her veins followed by regret. To stay with her he'd have to go back to the scene. For the first time. Could she ask that of him? 

She was interrupted by her phone ringing and answered it out of habit before remembering that she was on mandatory leave from work. For Cain's death only days that felt like weeks ago. 

"Decker," she said, still looking at Lucifer, who was lost in contemplation again, staring past her at the ocean. She hoped it was something more pleasant that what she had been thinking about but doubted that it was. 

"How is he?" came Linda's voice. "He called for a session and I told him to come by. He said he’s on his way. On a scale of normal Lucifer and post-Uriel bad, what should I expect?"

"Somewhere in between," Lucifer supplied, a wry grin on his face, gesturing for her to put it on speaker. She did and he continued, "and while your concern for me is admirable, that isn't why I called. I don't need your guidance, _Doctor._ Just your guest room. Michael has declared that he is staying on Earth and I need somewhere to board him in the know on Celestials."

"He's not a horse, Lucifer," Chloe muttered, rolling her eyes. "And Linda is not a hotel for angels. He can stay at my place and I'll stay with you."

"Absolutely not!" Lucifer snapped. "He knows what you mean to me. I'll not risk it."

"But you'll risk me?" Linda demanded, her tone sharp now that he had told her that she wasn't his therapist at the moment but a freaking hotel. "I know you’re irritated with me right now, though I’m not entirely sure why, but if he's dangerous, Lucifer--"

"He's not," the Devil countered while Chloe snorted incredulously and added, "He broke your wings _twelve_ times, strung you up in the square for days and threw you down to Hell. I _think_ that qualifies as dangerous."

"He did what? Lucifer he can't come here," Linda breathed, but neither of them was paying attention to her, caught up in their own argument. 

"He's only dangerous to _me_ , Chloe," Lucifer argued. "And maybe you. Or the Spawn. And probably Mazikeen. I should warn her he’s here. But if he's to be believed, and he wasn't lying, then he only did it because Dad ordered it." Chloe took a deep breath before sitting back and rubbing her forehead.

"That's worse, Lucifer," she sighed. "How many of your siblings helped him? And your Dad not only allowed but sanctioned it? That means it's not one bad apple, it's the whole damn tree. You're always going on about how everything is your Dad trying to manipulate you. You even broke up with me over it, cut off your own wings--which I still don’t know how you endured, drugs and alcohol or not--so tell me this; how do we know that this isn't a manipulation."

"Because it's not what I want," he said simply. "I never wanted to see Michael again. I never wanted to return to the Silver City. Those are the last things I ever wanted. For this to be a manipulation by Dad, the reward would have to be something I want."

"That is," Linda began, fading out as she tried to find a word to describe how insightful and sad that was but was cut off by Chloe's assessment of, "fucked up, Lucifer."

"I beg your pardon?" Lucifer scoffed, offended that she would say something like that about him. “I’m quite certain that my logic is impeccable.” 

"Lucifer," she sighed, her tone softening at his outrage, "that is terrible. I … You only think your Dad would do something nice for you if it was something that you didn’t want? I mean, you’re probably not wrong, given what I know but …” she trailed off, unable to find the words to express how the matter-of-fact way Lucifer delivered the pronouncement gutted her very soul. What Michael had done, his siblings, his Father, as a parent and a human being she couldn’t imagine condoning someone doing that to another, let alone her own child. And the fact that he was resigned to it, wasn’t furious over it, Lucifer who so often raled in the face of injustice, she wondered just how many little acts it had taken to get him to this point. How many subtle acts of devaluing it took to allow his siblings to be willing to do it? No wonder he always assumed the worst, was capable of enduring so much that even trembling with pain he’d been able to smile at her and whisper ‘they’ve been through worse.’ And they had. He had. When she saw Micheal, archangel or no, she was going to give him a piece of her mind. She wasn’t even aware that she was crying, her forehead pressed into his knees before he was gathering her into his arms, cradling her in his lap and resting his chin on her head. 

“Hush, Love,” he whispered, shifting to press a kiss to her hair. “These are old hurts, the wounds long healed. It just … it is how things are. How they’ve been for the entire existence of your species. You can’t change it. You can’t fix it and weeping now … it won’t help, Chloe. Please, don’t be sad over this. I’m, “ she glared up at him as the “f” of fine started to come out of his mouth and he chuckled softly, “doing as well as can be expected. I’m not going to lash out, do anything rash or run. You have my word.” 

“So what are you going to do with Michael?” Linda asked from the phone. “I … Lucifer, I am your friend and want to help you but I am not comfortable having him here. With your history with him and our history, I … I’m saying no, Lucifer. He can’t stay here.” 

“Thank you for your help, then, Doctor. We have no further need for you at the moment,” Lucifer said, picking up the phone and hanging up. Chloe sighed as he handed her back the phone and she slid it into her pocket.

“That was rude, Lucifer,” she said. He shrugged, unconcerned with human concepts of nicety. She had grossly misunderstood and insulted him and now refused to help when he expressed a need. He had accepted her refusal. He hadn’t eviscerated her. That was a type of politeness. 

“Perhaps it’s for the best,” he said wrapping his arms around Chloe and enjoying sitting with her on the dark beach in the moonlight, even as his shoulders itched with the desire to manifest his wings, a desire he planned to ignore. 

“How so?” Chloe asked, snuggling back into him and wrapping her left arm around his waist. 

“Doctor Linda knows far too much about how I feel and think about some things,” Lucifer said contemplatively. “But she still fears me, even if she won’t admit it. She sometimes wonders if I am evil. I am no longer sure that I can trust her, as we’ve previously discussed. Pairing her with Michael, who I do not trust, and giving him unsupervised access to someone who has had access to my mind, it could give him far too much power over me. As it is now, I am an unknown, a changed factor while he remains just as he always was. 

“You asked me earlier who would win if he and I fought,” Lucifer said, stroking her arm absently, “it would be me. I can still read him like a book. He’s not learned to hide emotions or intentions. The child is better at maintaining appearances. He doesn’t know guile, deception. I didn’t before the Fall. Demons taught me that lesson. He’s learned nothing in the eons we’ve been apart. In a fight, I’d win.”

“But it won’t be a fight,” Chloe said slowly. She was relieved when he shook his head, humming.

“Likely not,” he agreed. “He spoke the truth when he said he was here to reconcile. I just … I can’t have him near me. Not yet.”

“I don’t blame you,” Chloe said with a shrug. “I don’t want him near us. Or Trixie. So, a hotel?” 

“Motel,” Lucifer corrected. “And I think I know just the one. Hold on, Darling.” With no more warning than that, they were back in the breakroom of Lux looking at Michael reading a magazine. 

“Productive conversation?” Micheal asked, quirking his lip and opposite eyebrow in a way that Chloe recognized from when Lucifer was irritated at having been left out and trying not to show it. 

“Quite,” Lucifer agreed with a grin. “Come, I found you somewhere to stay, Brother.” At the eager look that quickly overtook his features, Chloe realized that Lucifer was right, Michael’s desires telegraphed clearly. Keeping himself between Michael and Chloe, Lucifer led his twin out of the break room and back towards the main floor of the club to get to the garage. They made it about halfway across the club before a female patron wrapped herself around Lucifer, too inebriated to detect the repulsion he was emitting. She was so far gone that she didn’t even notice as he pulled his cheek away from her seeking fingers. 

“Lucifer,” she slurred, his arm around her waist the only thing keeping her upright, “I didn’t know you’re a twin. I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be with twins.”

“I’m afraid you’ll have to keep wondering, Cynthia, dear,” Lucifer replied, moving towards the bar and depositing her on a stool. “As much as I love fulfilling desires, that one is one that I will have to refuse. Damien,” he called, waiting until the bartender looked up and pointed at Cynthia, “this young lady needs an Uber home. She’s had enough fun for one night. I’m afraid that she is no longer able to consent.” Damien gave him the thumbs up and passed Cynthia a glass of water before getting her address and booking her an Uber on Lux’s account. She continued trying to convince him to pour her something stronger, which he firmly but politely refused. Lucifer smiled indulgently at the girl and his employee before continuing on his way with his brother and Chloe. 

He wanted to ask her to go back up to the penthouse but knew that she would never agree to leaving him alone with Michael, towards whom she seemed to have more animosity than even he did. An impressive feat, that. He kept catching her shooting glares at Michael when the angel wasn't paying attention. He chuckled softly as he wondered if it wasn't a good thing she was on leave and bereft of her weapon. While he doubted that she made Michael vulnerable (as she wasn't immune to his divine powers) he didn't particularly want to deal with his brother's indignation over being shot. Though he did have to admit that the mental image shock on Michael's face and satisfaction on Chloe's was a tempting thing. 


	3. Questionable Lodgings and Phone Calls

There had been a bit of a snag when Michael saw the car. He hadn't wanted to get in and had suggested that Lucifer and Chloe go to the motel and one of them pray to give him the location. Lucifer had unequivocally shot that idea down saying, "I don't want that level of intimacy with you, Brother. Nor do I want you in Chloe's mind. I will not pray to you and I ask that you do me the same courtesy." Michael had sulked but when Lucifer had told him to "get in the car or go home" he'd complied, folding his large frame uncomfortably into the back seat. Chloe almost offered to let him have the front but a subtle shake of her partner's head stopped her. Lucifer had pulled out his phone as they pulled into traffic and proceeded to make calls and deals while he drove them to the mysterious motel. 

As they pulled up in front of what had to be the sleaziest motel she'd ever seen, Michael groaned, his nose wrinkled in obvious distaste. She couldn't disagree. Half the doors were so weathered she was wasn't sure that they'd stop wind, let alone a burglar. The parking lot was a giant pothole, with islands of intact asphalt. The pool was a frog pond. And there was no doubt in her mind that she'd just witnessed a drug deal and maybe prostitution. Lucifer had brought Michael, the archangel, to a true den of iniquity. At least divine flesh was probably immune to bedbugs.

"Here's the place," Lucifer said, gesturing grandly. "The bill is paid for a month. Get out."

"I … here?" Michael asked, incredulously. "Brother, Sodom and Gamora were purer than this. I can't…"

"You can or you can go home," Lucifer said firmly. "This is where I found you lodging. No one I know will take you in. Not with our history. It's here or home." Michael nodded, his eyes showing understanding.

"You're punishing me," he said softly, a small, bitter laugh bubbling up. "This is a test of my devotion. My determination. Very well, Brother. I accept your judgement and will live here until you see fit to change my lodgings. Am I permitted to leave the premises or am I confined to quarters until you summon me?" Chloe could see Lucifer's small signs of shock at his brother's acceptance of the lodging, his hand unconsciously twisting his ring, the small twitch around his mouth, the way he held himself just a little straighter. But he hid it well, offering Michael a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Come and go as you please," he said. "Even if that means _going home_ . Just remember, do not attempt to contact me. I will contact you. I'll have a phone delivered to you. Until then, I will leave any messages for you at the front desk. Enjoy your visit to Earth, brother. It will be _educational_. " He lifted his chin towards what had certainly been a prostitution deal as the man and woman from before were caught in what looked like the throes of passion. Lucifer grinned while Michael went pale. 

“Go on, get out,” Lucifer said, making a shooing motion with his hand. “Room 13.” Michael sighed and rolled his eyes before climbing as gracefully to his feet as he could manage, straightening his robes. “You’ll find more appropriate clothing on the bed.” 

“I’ll see you soon?” Michael asked, bending down to try to catch Lucifer’s eye.

“Perhaps,” was the Devil’s reply before he whipped out of the parking lot, throwing gravel and, if the bump was any indication, running over Michael’s foot. Chloe couldn’t stop herself from glancing in the rearview mirror and seeing Michael’s dejected appearance as they drove away. Even though she didn’t trust him, the sight brought an unexpected twinge to her heart, probably because of his resemblance to Lucifer. 

“That was ….” 

“Somewhere I would never have brought you, Darling,” Lucifer promised,taking his eyes off the road to look at her and still managing to eave around a slow car. “I only know of it because it’s actually one of Maze’s favorite places to find bounties. Speaking of which,” he paused a moment to dial his phone before smiling grimly, “Mazikeen, darling, I have news." There was a pause, "Nothing that good I'm afraid. My brother's in town. No, not the pompous firstborn. Michael." Chloe jumped and even Lucifer flinched at the explosion of sound from the phone. He recovered quickly and grinned, a vicious thing filled with far too many teeth, even as Chloe paled at the very graphic violence Maze was suggesting.

"Oh, Mazie, you are inventive," Lucifer praised when she paused long enough to take a breath, "but that won't be required at this time. Apparently, he's here to attempt to mend bridges. I haven't yet decided if I will allow it to be repaired or torch his attempts. At the moment I’m amused with seeing just how low he is willing to stoop for my forgiveness. I just wanted to warn you that he's in town and at your favorite hunting ground. I know, I know, it was just the first, most miserable place I could think of. He's been told that you're off limits, but … I still don't trust him. And as irked as I am with you, I do not desire your existence to end. Especially by any hand other than mine." 

He paused, considering his next words carefully. He wasn't sure if demons could pray and didn't particularly want to be privy to Mazikeen's inner thoughts, dark as they were certain to be, but the only other option was one she was unlikely to accept; renewing their bond. However, their bond was the only way to ensure that she could summon him if he was needed to defend her from his twin or the Host. He knew he had to offer. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if they destroyed her and he hadn’t offered her his best protection. With a sigh, he interrupted the fifth, increasingly agitated reiteration of his name. Only just noticing Chloe's hand rubbing soothing circles on his thigh.

"Yes, yes, I'm still here," he snapped, shaking his head. "I was thinking … stop laughing Mazikeen. I do think sometimes. Anyway, how would you feel about swinging by Lux this evening? I'll bring you up to the penthouse and we can … I will renew the bond that I broke. You're a magnificent demon, Maze, but you can't beat an archangel. I won't use my end, if that’s what you’re worried about. I promise. You're still a free agent but then you can call me if he breaks his promise to me to leave you be. After all, he’s not bound by principle like I am." He expected an outright refusal and was surprised when there was silence followed by an "I'll think about it. Let you know later."

"See you tonight," he replied, knowing that from Maze, maybe meant yes. "Goodbye, Maze." And he hung up. 

"She really is a demon, isn't she?" Chloe asked with a breathless chuckle. "Could she really … you know? All those things she threatened to do…"

"She has done and likely will do again," Lucifer said with a shrug. "She's a demon. And not just any demon, she's Hell's best torturer. A title she more than earned. She's smarter than most demons, more devious, more cunning and more dangerous. It's part of what I like about her. But now that she's a free agent … oh, speaking of agents," his phone was out again and he was dialing putting it on speaker this time, figuring that Anders might prefer talking to himself and a law enforcement officer rather than just the Devil.

"Anders," came the reply.

"Agent Anders," Lucifer purred. "Lucifer Morningstar. Do you remember me?" Anders' swear was soft but audible.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. Morningstar?" Anders asked, trepidation apparent even over the phone. "If this is about that orgy, I assured you it would not be required." Lucifer's laugh was warm, genuine. Circumstances of their introduction aside, Anders was vaguely likeable. And he held his own fairly well for a human in the know, even during their first meeting where Lucifer had been decidedly less than cordial. Most people cowered a bit more when threatened by the Devil, Anders tried to placate and he approved.

"No, apologies, but I have been a bit preoccupied of late, but since it still seems to be on your mind, I _can_ make it happen," he promised."Were you wanting men, women, a mix? Humans?Non-humans? I can't promise much on the non-humans, I'm afraid. I have a demon and the Devil. The only angels I have access to are real sticks-in-the-mud. Not that they all aren't but--"

"No, no, no, that won't be necessary, Mr. Morningstar," Anders said so quickly Chloe knew he had considered it and rejected it at some point. It was also clear that they'd discussed it between themselves before. And to her knowledge, the only time they'd talked had been the field after the rescue where Anders had revealed he'd known the truth about Lucifer, been vaguely threatening, been threatened in response and then they'd left.

"How did getting rescued from the world's first murderer by the FBI and threatening the FBI become a discussion about an orgy?" Chloe laughed wondering if either of them would answer. It only made the Devil smile wider.

"Is that Detective Decker?" Anders asked, the relief in his voice proving that Lucifer had been right that she would comfort him. 

"Yes, hello," she answered, stopping just short of waving and looking like a lunatic. Lucifer's smirk said he'd seen the aborted gesture. 

"Hello, Detective," Anders replied. "Glad to see that you're still here to keep him in line." Lucifer pulled a mock offended face that was just for Chloe's benefit, and it did make her smile, but then Anders continued, "If that's all, it was nice catching up but I do need to get back to work." 

"It's not all," Lucifer said before Anders could hang up on him. He laughed again as a groan came through the line. Chloe sighed, shaking her head and taking pity on the poor FBI agent. 

"Lucifer said you wanted to hear from us if any more Celestials showed up," Chloe said, entering the conversation before Lucifer could tease him more. "There's a new one."

"Is this new one trouble?" Anders asked seriously.

"He says he's not," Chloe was quick to assure him.

"He could be lying," Lucifer added. "Not all my siblings are bound by my morals." Anders barked out a laugh at that before saying, "you mean to tell me that the Devil's got better morals than angels?"

"Yes," Chloe and Lucifer agreed simultaneously. 

"I can personally attest that Angels can and do lie," Chloe said. "Lucifer, however, he's never lied to me or anyone and has broken one deal since before time was a concept. He's impeccably, idiotically, inconveniently and annoyingly honest."

"If I didn't know better, love, I'd think that was a compliment," Lucifer grinned. 

"It wasn't," she promised, her smirk and tone saying the opposite. 

"You two are almost worse over the phone," Anders informed them before asking, "So, if this new brother causes trouble, is there anything my people can do?"

"Pray," Lucifer said with a shrug. "Maybe Dad will care to stop him if enough of you do, but I doubt it. You'd best just hope he's telling the truth. Though I do still think I can take Michael in a fight, Detective."

"Can we _please_ try to keep that academic, Lucifer? I'm really not in the mood for Armageddon this week," Chloe sighed while Anders tried to catch his breath.

"Chloe!" Lucifer laughed, "was that a joke, Love?"

"Hold up!" Anders cut in. "Michael? As in the archangel Michael? And is … is Armageddon really on the table."

"Yes," Lucifer groaned. "Michael the archangel and my pain in the ass twin brother. I'm sure that you know how our last meeting went but he hasn't attacked me yet so … just _possibly_ on the Armageddon thing?"

"But you can stop him if he does try? You won't let him end the world?" Anders asked before laughing hysterically. "I just asked Satan to save the world from the Archangel Michael, Defender of Heaven. What just happened?" Chloe felt nothing but sympathy as she listened to the man breaking apart at the seams on the other end of the phone. From the way Lucifer shifted, laying the phone down to fiddle with his ring while continuing to navigate traffic, he wasn't unaffected either. 

"We're going to try to prevent that, sir," she said loudly and clearly trying to break through his hysteria. "I'm going to text you a number. Give her a call. She'll be able to help." The only answer was more laughter and what may have been a sob. Chloe winced and Lucifer even looked a bit defeated as he said goodbye and ended the call. 

"Well, we broke him," he sighed, a levity that didn't reach his eyes in the words. "Too bad. I kind of liked him. Perhaps we should call lieutenant Smith next? I'm not fond of him and maybe if we break him we'll get a better one?"

"I don't know," Chloe said, trying to joke and knowing it fell flat, "at least this one doesn't seem to want either of us dead or in his bed. That's a start."

"True," he agreed, "if that's our criteria he is a vast improvement over his predecessor. Most of them wanted and had at least one of us in their beds. Well, everyone on the "need-to-know" list knows about Michael, what do you say to a day of sloth?"

"Sounds heavenly," Chloe replied, raising an eyebrow in challenge at her choice of words. 

"I was aiming for _sinful,"_ he retorted, raising an eyebrow of his own. "As in filled with sin. How many of the "cardinal" ones do you think we can get in? I know we can do sloth, probably gluttony. I think lust can happen easily enough. I mean, you are with me."

"And there's pride covered," she laughed. He chuckled. 

"Of course the Devil can manage pride. That was my original sin. I can also probably manage greed but hopefully we can avoid wrath and jealousy," he countered. "Those two aren't particularly _fun_ unless they are done very carefully and that's just too much work for a sloth day."

"You don't have a greedy bone in your body, Lucifer," she said before groaning, knowing it was going to turn into innuendo. She set that up too well and he loved innuendo. She wasn't wrong.

"Let's see how greedy you think my bone is when I'm done with you, Love," he leaned over to whisper, goosebumps running down her arms not at the feeling of his breath but at the sheer carnal promise in the words. She couldn't help the rush of anticipation at that promise. Sinful day in indeed.


	4. Vengeance

And it was a sinful evening. Continuing on to the next morning. Even if the sin they indulged in was more sloth and gluttony than lust, it was nice. That's not to say that love hadn't been there or desire or sex, but Chloe felt that lust was a poor description of what had occurred between them. And was still occurring between them. 

With the looming unknown threat from Michael becoming less likely a threat and more of an olive branch, alone in a secured penthouse with no impressionable ears or wardens, desires had boiled over and she had to admit that he hadn't been exaggerating about either his skills or his stamina. Even as they lay on the couch watching a movie and snacking on leftover Chinese food from the night before, his hand began tracing patterns on her ribs, moving subtlety lower and more towards her middle. She shivered and hummed in approval as his fingers reached about mid-hip and he stopped. She tilted her head and looked up at his face to see that he was studying her. She offered him a smile that he returned but his fingers remained where they were, ghosting over her abdomen at mid hip. 

"May I?" He asked, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes. This had to be the third (fourth?) time since yesterday. She had given him blanket consent at this point for anything on the "yes" list they'd discussed and willingness to discuss the "maybe" list. And nothing in her posture of reactions had said no, she didn't think. She didn't know why he felt the need to ask, as he had every time. Even so, she nodded.

"Please," she replied, pressing into his fingers. He smiled and bent to kiss her, a slow tender thing just like his current touch on her hip that was moving with agonizing slowness downward. She groaned at the pace and felt him smile against her lips, just as she was reaching out to show him that two could play the game he was, there was a rush of air that she had come to realize meant angel wings and Lucifer froze. 

"Go back to the hotel, Michael," he said without turning around. "Or anywhere but here. Goes for Amenadiel too. Don't really care which one you are. Go away."

"Lucifer," came a disapproving female voice. "Is that any way to greet a sister?"

"Bollocks," he sighed, groaning and leaning his head back before adjusting his robe and scooting out from under Chloe. "Apologies, Detective, I have to deal with this. Please stay out of it. This will likely get ugly." He didn't bother to lower his voice, she would hear it anyway. And it wasn’t like she didn’t know this was likely to come to a physical altercation. With grim determination, he turned towards the new angel, who was glaring at him radiating wrath. An archangel facing down the Devil, exactly what he’d expected from Michael, except here he had a chance. An Archangel she was, but even so, she was no match for him.

"Ariel," he said softly, not bothering to attempt a smile, "it's been eons. You look lovely." And it was true. Slim willowy figure, dark wavy hair, olive complexion and the most startling green eyes Chloe had ever seen. And green wings, Chloe didn't know that feathers  _ came  _ in green, shot through with random feathers of color that reminded her of fields of wildflowers. 

"Cut the flattery," Ariel snapped. "You wronged me, Lucifer." He curled in on himself like her words had struck him. His fingers fidgeting with his ring and his shoulders bowing. 

"I did," he agreed, nodding for emphasis. "I don't deny it. Can’t deny it. But he left me no choice, Ariel. What was I  _ supposed  _ to do? Let him kill me? Mum? Just wipe her from existence? She gave us life, Ariel."

"And betrayed us all, even you Lucifer," Ariel argued, gesturing widly, her voice echoing off the marble and stone. "She argued  _ against  _ you, Lucifer.  _ Against  _ Father forgiving you, which he was considering. When you were in the courtyard awaiting judgement for your rebellion and the Archangels decided your possible fates--"

"Oh! So that's what we're calling you lot torturing me for days? 'Awaiting judgement?' What a crock of shit," Lucifer snarled, feeling his eyes light with hellfire, choosing to ignore that his own Mother hadn't defended him. "What, you left me hanging--quite literally, mind you--so that you could sit around and wring your hands, search your  _ souls  _ and decide I wasn't worth the effort."

"What were we supposed to do with you, Lucifer?" she asked, beginning to pace. "You were upsetting the peace, rebelling against Father. Against the order of things. It wasn't like there was any precedent. No set punishment to fall back on. 

“It wasn't like we had a cell to throw you in that could hold you,” she continued. “They were never constructed because they were never  _ needed _ . Not before  _ you _ . And none of us knew how else to contain you. Not even Michael or Dad. Without you bound to the foundations of the Silver City you could have escaped to literally anywhere. You're half of the demiurge, a thought and you'd have been gone and we'd always have had to wonder if you were coming back to destroy us."

"I was never going to destroy you," Lucifer scoffed, pacing himself, keeping between her and Chloe. "Because you're right. I  _ was  _ half of the demiurge. Before I lost those abilities, I could have willed you all into nonexistence. But the thought never crossed my mind,  _ Sister _ . Do you know why? Even as you bound me, broke me,  _ humiliated  _ me. I kept hoping that one of you would have mercy and take my side. None of you did. But it still never crossed my mind to destroy any of you." 

"Michael took your side," she said softly. "In the council. Michael argued that your punishment had already been dealt and you should be welcomed back. Gabriel too. I didn't take a side. But Mom and Uriel did. They said that you were dangerous. That you hadn't learned anything. That nothing had changed. That your patterns of behavior had remained the same. And they were right. You are dangerous. You killed him Sam, you killed my twin."

"I had no choice," Lucifer cried, gripping his hair. "Why can't you and Mum see that?"

“There’s always a choice, Lucifer,” Ariel snapped. “You could have chosen anything besides that! Even without the demiurge powers, you have always been physically stronger than he was. You could have beaten him into submission.”

“I tried that, Ariel,” Lucifer countered, pained at the memories she was forcing him to relive by asking. “Ur … He was always good at patterns and maybe he was right and I’m predictable because he read mine. And I wasn’t at my physical best. I didn’t have my wings so--”

“Whose fault was that!?” she shouted, throwing her hands towards the sky. “Whose fault is it that you decided to weaken and mutilate yourself just to prove what?! A point to our Father? Who did you hurt with that gesture, Lucifer? Not Dad, I'll tell you that.  _ He didn’t care _ . ‘Let him choose,’ He said. You only hurt yourself. And Uriel. And me.”

“Ariel, I … regardless of what led up to it, he beat me,” Lucifer sighed, more hurt by her revelations than he was willing to let on. His Mother had argued against him and then sought to use him and his Father still hadn’t cared, even about his most flamboyant flipping of the bird. The pain he felt over Uriel was easier to deal with at the moment, so he continued to plead his case, even though Ariel’s anger was justified.

“He won and he was going to use Azreal’s blade on Mum, me, Maze and the Detective. I had to stop him. He’d gone mad, Ariel,” Lucifer whispered. “I’ve seen madness and that was what was in his eyes. He’d gone mad from Azreal’s blade.”

“He’d gone mad?” she demanded, whipping around, green eyes flaring and suddenly vines conjured from nothing were there, wrapping around his limbs, pinning him to the wall as she stalked closer, fury burning in her eyes as he felt the panic surge in his. His wings burst forth of their own volition, fluttering helplessly against the pressure exerted by the vines until they, too, were trapped, the tendrils weaving through the grommets left by Cain. 

“What about you, Lucifer,” she snarled, stalking towards him, the rage in her eyes causing his heart to beat erratically. Despite his desire to let her vent, he couldn’t resist trying to burn away the vines, but for every one he burnt, three more took its place and like a constrictor the more he struggled the tighter they grew. But he couldn’t get himself to stop struggling, the panic at being bound taking all rational thought from his mind. They were to the point that even the shallow gasps of air caused them to grow tighter and his eyes flicked to Chloe, watching with abject horror on the couch. 

“You, who killed one of the Host,” Ariel whispered, the words laced with venom as her fingernails bit into his cheek drawing blood in four long streaks before she grabbed his throat threateningly. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you? What honeyed words do you have for me,  _ betrayer _ ?” 

“None,” he rasped out, “You’d be within your right to do it. But Ariel, know that this will eat at your soul. The weight of killing a sibling, you’ll fall. I know. Is killing me worth it?” Her hold tightened, nails beginning to break skin and instinct took over, flames surging along his skin, searing her fingers. She held his gaze as she held them against him, even as her flesh melted and bone charred. 

“Please stop,” Chloe called, unable to stay out of the fight any longer. “Please, Ariel, was it, don’t hurt him. Don’t make him hurt you.” 

“You dare to speak to me?” Ariel snapped, turning to Chloe with a glare. “You. A human? You  _ dare _ to interfere in the conflicts of your betters?”

“I do,” Chloe said, swallowing heavily and standing tall with a courage she didn’t feel in every line of her body. “And I’m not just a human. I’m a fucking miracle. Ordained directly by  _ your  _ Father to exist.” With that Ariel looked back to Lucifer for confirmation and saw the pure horror on his face as he forced his eyes towards Chloe without being able to turn his head. 

“Oh, this is delightful,” Ariel purred, a tendril of vine shooting out and wrapping around Chloe who let out a startled shriek as she was pulled towards them. “You care for her, don’t you, Lucifer?” 

“Ariel, no,” Lucifer pleaded. “She has family, a child. They need her. If you want vengeance, take it. I’m yours, as long as you want to draw this out, I swear it. But leave her be.” He renewed his struggles, but couldn’t even move at this point and was forced to watch as Ariel bent and took Chloe’s chin in her hand.

“Tell me,  _ Miracle _ , what is your purpose in life?” Ariel said, the words holding the power of command. 

“Ariel, no!” Lucifer gasped as Chloe’s expression went blank. He could see her fighting the compulsion but knew that she wouldn’t last forever. As soon as Ariel knew what Chloe’s true purpose was, she could use her gift two ways, to aid it or to corrupt it. He had no doubt that Ariel did not intend to help Chloe accomplish whatever she felt her purpose was. He flared the flames as hotly as he could, the stone behind him cracking from the heat but the vines had evolved to be flame proof. They spread again in response, wrapping around his throat and his head. He couldn’t move. He was out of options. It was over. 

No. It wasn’t. There was one option. One last, fragile, hope.

_ Michael _ , he prayed, desperate for assistance and hoping his twin would help.  _ I need you, Brother. _

Surprise and delight flared along his mind accompanied by one word,  _ Coming. _ He huffed a small laugh at Michael’s poor word choice but it was soon pushed from his mind as Chloe’s face took on a pained expression and her lips parted. If he could have drawn air, he would have sighed at the sound of wings. Maybe Michael could talk sense into Ariel. Or beat her. Either way.

“I thought you weren’t going to pray to me, Lucifer?” Michael’s voice called from near the bar. Lucifer couldn’t turn his head to look but he hoped that Michael would figure it out soon. “Ariel, what are you doing? Let Sam go. And his human.” 

“Stay out of this, Michael,” Ariel snapped, turning back to Chloe, who had regained her composure when the eye contact had broken for Ariel to look at Michael. “I’ve no quarrel with you, Brother. This is between me, Lucifer and the Miracle.” 

“This won’t bring him back, Sister,” Michael said sadly. “We all miss him but-”

“Don’t you dare say he deserved it, Michael!” she snapped, turning from Chloe and whirling to face Michael. “Don’t you dare! You have no idea what it’s like to lose a twin!”

“Don’t I?” Michael demanded, his own tone hard and his voice warbling. “What do you think I felt after Samael was banished?! After  _ I _ had to banish him. After  _ I _ had to break him and it accomplished nothing? When he  _ begged _ for me to come to him and I physically couldn’t. When I tried until my muscles tore from the strain and Father took away my ability to hear him. Don’t you dare tell me that I don’t know, Ariel. At least you never had to endure  _ that _ . Yes, Uriel is gone but this won’t bring him back.” 

“Oh and that’s so much worse!” Ariel snapped, shooting a vine towards Michael, which he deflected with a wave of his hand. “You  _ chose _ to throw him away. I didn’t get that choice! It was made for me!” Another blast of vines, these deflected as well, almost as if Michael was encased in a shield.

“Neither did I!” Michael snapped, a flick of his wrist sending power surging out and knocking Ariel down. Chloe dodged her body flying past, moving towards Lucifer whose face was turning a troubling shade of purple and pulling the curved knife she’d taken from Maze’s room from it’s sheath in her boot, cutting through the vines around his neck relieved when the purple began to fade. Trying to ignore the crashing behind her, she started looking down his body and cut the tightest ones around his chest, feeling remorse when she nicked him and relief when he drew a deep shuddering breath. She made quick work of the smaller, looser ones pleased when they didn’t instantly grow back.

“Wings next, please,” he gasped, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath and fought panic at what had almost happened. She nodded and began cutting through the vines around and through his left wing. 

“I see why you wanted these out so bad,” Chloe whispered, trying to distract herself to stop her hand from shaking as she cut a vine that had grown through a grommet. “I’ll take them out this evening.” 

“Wasn’t why but not a bad point, eh?” he asked, flinching as she nicked him due to her shaking. “Free that one and my left hand and I can do the rest, Love.” She nodded wrapping her left hand around her right wrist in a failed attempt to still it. She managed to get through his wing with only a couple small nicks and had moved on to his arm when the sound of bodies hitting the floor and a loud crack sounded behind her followed by the high shriek of a woman. She jumped at what she now knew to be the sound of a bone snapping and Lucifer let out a curse as she slit his arm open with the knife. 

“Shit! Shit I’m sorry!” She called, trying to cover the bleeding but unable to because of the vines still in the way. 

“Finish with the vines, Love,” Lucifer said simply, his tone tightly controlled. “And then give me the knife before you hurt yourself.” The ‘ _ or me’  _ was left unsaid but they both heard it. 

“Kay,” she muttered, making quick work of the vines before pressing the handle of the blade into Lucifer’s hand. He was far quicker with it than she had been, using the curve of the blade to his advantage and sliding through the vines like butter, deftly avoiding his own skin. He was free in moments and turning towards Micheal and Ariel, ignoring the destruction in his home with great effort. He could feel Chloe against his back and hoped that Michael had her subdued. As they came around the ruined couch he saw that Michael had Ariel pinned on the floor in the living room, her arm hanging awkwardly where it had broken.

“I didn’t mean to,” Michael was saying, whether to Lucifer or Ariel, Chloe couldn’t tell from behind Lucifer’s wings. “She fell wrong and it … I …”

“It’s repairable,” Lucifer dismissed, kneeling down beside them and taking his sister’s wrist and elbow in his hands before setting the break. Ariel’s breath shuddered but she didn’t cry out, her green eyes boring into him as he casually pulled a small white feather from the arch of his wing and pressed it to her flesh. A small sound of discomfort escaped her throat as the break healed as though it had never been.

“Why?” she demanded, still glaring from where Michael was sitting on her on the floor. 

“Because you’re not wrong,” Lucifer said with a shrug. “Killing Uriel, while necessary, is my  _ greatest _ regret. There is nothing else in my life that comes close. The last time I was in Hell,  _ that  _ was my Hellloop. I … he was standing at that piano, over there,” he lifted his head pleased to see that his piano had managed to avoid the carnage, as had the bar. Good. He needed a drink. “And … and … and,” he felt Chloe’s fingers thread into his wings and sighed, tears forming, “and I killed him. Again, and again, and again. While he laughed, taunted. Said the same things that you’ve been saying. That I’m a monster. A danger. A betrayer. Evil. And you’re not wrong. Either of you. I …” he broke off sobbing. “I didn’t … I didn’t  _ desire _ that outcome, Ariel. I swear it. And I will pay any penance you ask of me that does not involve Chloe Decker. She was innocent of it and does not deserve to suffer for my mistakes. I await your judgement, Sister.” She studied him searching for signs of deceit and finding none. 

After a moment, his head bowed and he whispered, in the tongue of the Silver City, “I regret my actions. I will accept judgement.” The words felt odd in his mouth, having not spoken them himself consciously in eons, but it felt right as well. There was no way to deceive, no loopholes or lies of omission, in their native language and he had no desire to deceive her. He wanted her to know the absolute, bald truth.

It was also the right decision. At his words, Ariel felt her anger abating. The hurt was still there but the rage that had nearly consumed her was gone. She couldn’t forgive him, but she also found that she couldn’t hate him. Not this version of him. Pompous, arrogant Samael, brightest, most beautiful, best and favorite of the archangels, him she could have hated. But not Lucifer, who was apparently a different entity entirely.

“You have changed,” Ariel said softly, her eyes no longer hard but filled with tears. “Dad was right. But isn’t He always?”

“Afriad I’m the wrong one to ask,” Lucifer laughed sadly. “I’m the  _ rebellious  _ son, remember?” 

“And much less proud and arrogant than I remember,” Ariel said with a small smile. “I don’t think you meant to do it.”

“But I did,” Lucifer corrected. “I meant to kill him, Ariel. But I didn’t desire it. He left me no choice. He was threatening me and everything and everyone I cared for. And I did kill him. Motivation aside, it was my hand that spilled his blood and took his life. I am guilty of his death.” This last was said once more in their native tongue.

“But you didn’t enjoy it,” she replied, struggling against Michael’s hold in an effort to comfort him. “All this time, I’ve thought that you did it on purpose, without remorse. With joy even. I … I wanted to blame anyone but Uriel, but he wasn’t innocent, either. I … we’re not alright, you and me. I don’t think we ever will be. But … I won’t try to kill you anymore. Or bother her. Truce?”

“Truce,” Lucifer agreed, offering her a hand. Chloe jumped as light flared between them, power sealing the words. “Let her up,” he instructed, rising to his feet and looking at Michael. “You two can clean up the mess you made while I go out for food. Then you can both sod off home. Thank you for your help, Brother. It was very much appreciated.”

“That’s it?” Michael demanded, climbing off Ariel and offering her a hand up. “You call me for a rescue, I do it and you’re leaving and expect me to go home without explanation?” 

“Yep, ta,” Lucifer said, clutching Chloe to him and disappearing leaving the two archangels alone in the demolished penthouse. As they surveyed the damage they had caused, Ariel sighed and looked at Michael who was starting to right the coffee table. 

“Are we sure he’s changed?” she asked with a laugh. “It’s just like Sam to start a fight, inbroil others and then leave the mess for them to clean up?”

“Yeah, but  _ he  _ had fun doing it,” Michael countered. “This didn’t seem like fun. And did Lucifer really start this one?” She shrugged, rolling her eyes and bent to pick up a book, placing it on the table before looking with remorse at the sliced couch. 

“Think you could just,” she asked, waving her hand vaguely. Michael shook his head, humming.

“I don’t have that kind of control,” he said with a shrug. “Never have. I can create mountains, oceans, planets even but not fix the couch. Sam could have. Not me.” 

“He really did fall, didn’t he?” She asked, pausing to look at Michael. “And I don’t mean to Hell. I was there when that part happened.”

“He is quite diminished from what he was,” Michael agreed. “But he’s also more. I can’t explain it, but even without all his abilities, he seems whole in a way he never was.” Ariel said nothing but she could see it too. In the place of their bright, trickster of a powerful brother stood a much more serious and melancholy being. He wasn’t as full of raw power, but there was something there that she didn’t plan on testing again. A truce between them really was for the best, because while she knew that it would tear him further apart, she knew that if she crossed him he would end her and that she wouldn’t be able to hope for as painless of a death as he’d given Uriel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For an example of green feathers, see the kakapo.
> 
> http://nzbirdsonline.org.nz/species/kakapo


	5. Conversations and Bonds

Lucifer and Chloe popped into and right back out of existence about four times before Chloe begged him to stop. She wasn’t sure exactly what he did to teleport them, but the jerks into and immediately back out of reality had left her stomach and her equilibrium a few stops ago. She was off balance and spinning and clinging to him just to keep upright as the world churned around her. Combined with the adrenaline still coursing through her veins from their encounter with his sister, she was feeling more than a little ill. 

“Lucifer, please,” she panted, swallowing heavily to try to convince her stomach to settle, the growing feeling in the back of her throat warning her that it had been unsuccessful. There was no doubt in her mind that she was going to throw up right there wherever there happened to be. 

“Just once more, Detective,” he said and with no more warning, the feeling of being yanked through space and dropped assaulted her senses and she did throw-up, Lucifer guiding her forward and to her knees, holding her hair as she emptied her stomach into a toilet. 

“I am deeply sorry, Love,” he murmured as he stroked her hair while wave after wave rocked her. “I had to ensure that we would be difficult if not impossible to follow. Multiple jumps across distances makes it difficult for even Remiel to track us. Will you be alright?” She nodded, feeling miserable and was surprised when he handed her a cup of water and her toothbrush. As she looked around, she realized that it wasn’t just any bathroom, it was hers. He’d brought her home.

“Remiel?” she asked, brushing her teeth. “Who’s that? I thought the sister that just attacked us unprovoked was Ariel?”

“She was,” Lucifer agreed, his tone falsely bright and setting her teeth on edge. “And it wasn’t entirely unprovoked. She wasn’t wrong to be mad at me, Detective. I did kill her favorite brother.” 

“In self-defense and defense of others, Lucifer,” Chloe sighed, rubbing her face and not feeling up to rehashing this with him again at the moment, before turning her attention to something that she could fix. 

“So,” she said softly, gesturing at his still bleeding arm with her chin, “not entirely invulnerable?”

“Infernal steel,” he said poking the gash with a wry grin, his lip quirking a bit more as blood ran down his arm. “It still bites. Also, probably the only thing that would have cut those vines, though. I’m glad you had it but any particular reason you had that down your boot?” 

“Michael,” she said with a small smile. “I picked it up after I dropped Trixie off yesterday. I just wasn’t entirely sure that I got the right one. Maze really does have a _lot_ of knives. But I knew that my gun wouldn’t work, even if I still had it. I wanted something that had a chance of hurting him. Having seen a battle between angels, it was stupid. Infernal steel or not, I’d never get close if he was expecting it, even without getting mojo’d.”

“That was a spat, not a battle,” Lucifer scoffed. “No one was actually out for blood. Ariel just needed to vent.She’d have got it out of her system eventually.”

“Really? Because the bleeding marks on your face look like she was out for blood. And bruises around your neck and the interesting shade of purple you turned make me think she was trying to kill you,” Chloe countered. “Clawing your face … probably typical sister stuff but, you know, you melting the flesh from her fingers, her trying to asphyxiate you … that seemed pretty battle worthy. What would it take to have made it a battle? Would you have had fought back?”

“How could I fight back, Chloe?” Lucifer sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair. “How could I attack her when … when she was right to--”

“Lucifer, I swear to G--” she cut herself off rubbing her face wearily, moving from the floor to the lip of the bathtub to burry her face in her hands and hide the anguish she was feeling. “How could you not? Why did you just _let_ her … I thought that you said that you can take Michael in a fight? He beat her with no problems. And, I don’t know if you realize this, but she almost _killed_ you. And … even if you don’t care about you, what would have happened to _me_ if she had?”

“If you’d stayed out of it--”

“Then you’d be dead!” Chloe snapped glaring at him, tears gathering in her eyes that she refused to let fall. “She was about to _strangle_ you, Lucifer. And you were just going to what? Let her. You waited to fight back until it was too late. And then offering yourself to her judgement! When she was already defeated! What the fuck was that?! I thought you said that you were _done_ letting people do as they would with you. That’s what you told Anders, Smith.Me!

“How many more visits like that are we expecting?” she asked, softer. “Family seeking vengeance for past wrongs that you’re just going to _let_ hurt you? Because I can’t watch that again, Lucifer. You can’t ask me to. I love you, more than I can … I love you more than I know how to say, but I _can’t_ do that again, Lucifer. I can’t watch you suffer. Not when you sit by and allow it. If that’s what you want then…”

“No,” he breathed, kneeling before her and taking her hands. “No. Detective, Chloe. I am so sorry. I … I shouldn’t’ve asked that of you. I … I wasn’t thinking. I meant to let her vent, let her rage--and she was right to rage even if you don’t think so--but I _did_ mean to fight her. I underestimated how angry she was, how willing to cause pain. I … I thought she could vent and then I could trounce her and she could go home with her tail between her legs and it would be over. But you’re right. I waited too long. And then there were vines and I just … I panicked. She restrained me and I … I panicked and when I quit panicking enough to think, I was too entangled to get free. You were there and I couldn’t move, couldn’t defend you and then you jumped in and … _what_ were you thinking, Chloe? Getting involved in something like that?”

“That I couldn’t watch her kill you,” Chloe said softly, meeting his horrified eyes. “And she was going to, Lucifer. She didn’t just want blood or pain or an apology. She wanted your life. Or mine. What was she trying to do to me? When Michael showed up.”

“He didn’t just ‘show up’,” Lucifer corrected, standing and pacing while avoiding her actual question. “I called him. Prayed,” he scoffed, tears coloring the words. “I, the Devil, prayed to the archangel Michael to save me.” A bitter laugh burst free before his expression became contemplative. “And he did, without a thought. He jumped to my defense. Against our sister. Without question.”

“He did,” Chloe agreed. “Distracted her so that I could save you. And apparently took your side during … what are we calling that farce of justice since it’s apparently going to keep coming up?”

“I’d rather it didn’t,” Lucifer sighed. “I don’t like to think about that time. Or anything that came after really. Nothing before about ten years ago really.” 

“I don’t think we can avoid it, sweetheart,” Chloe sighed, standing slowly, pleased when the room didn’t spin and the floor remained flat. She still stood a moment with her hand on the wall to make sure before walking towards him. 

“Michael wants to talk about it, Ariel brought it up. That’s the last memory they share with you. It makes sense that they would want to start there,” she muttered into his chest, listening to the heartbeat that had almost ended that night. “So, what was it she did?”

“Ariel sees purposes,” Lucifer said, glad of the change of topic even to one as uncomfortable as his sister almost erasing Chloe’s purpose in life. “She can either help people achieve their purpose or corrupt it. Just as I can desires and Michael sins or … crimes for lack of a better word. While I have no say in who goes where, Michael was appointed with the ability to judge souls, ensure that Azrael doesn’t bring souls to the Silver City that were destined for Hell. Serial killers, sociopaths and the like, that experience no guilt.”

“But you said, guilt sent people to Hell,” she said slowly, trying to wrap her head around a safeguard for one afterlife and not the other. 

“Hell has no such filter,” Lucifer said sadly. “If you feel you deserve punishment, you go to Hell. Innocence notwithstanding.It’s part of what makes me bitter.” She hugged him a little tighter and he winced, pulling away and holding his side with a slight grimace.

“You alright?” she asked, concern for him replacing irritation as her chief emotion. He nodded, pressing firmly and carefully along his ribcage a faint twitch revealing when he’d found a tender spot.

“I think she may have broken a rib or two with that constrictor act,” he said softly, pressing again and shaking his head. “Not broken but definitely bruised and maybe cracked. She did give it a good go, didn’t she?” 

“Well, nothing we can do about that except maybe wrap them up,” Chloe said raising an eyebrow, “is there?” he shook his head.

“They’ll heal,” he agreed. “Not the first time they’ve been bruised or broken either. Demons … not nice creatures overall. I almost wish my metabolism was still immune to you. Narcotics would be nice.” Chloe swore as she realized that his new invulnerability also meant there was little that could be done to seal the gash in his arm.

“Detective!” he chided. “Language.”

“Really?” she scoffed. “You’re going to criticize my choice to use profanity? Especially when I just realized that your invulnerability means we can’t sew that up and stop the bleeding. I think that’s a bit beyond butterfly bandages, Lucifer.”

“Let’s see if Maze is home, shall we?” he sighed. “She should have a needle or two from home. I had her bring a few just in case. I was planning to cut off my wings on arrival. Didn’t know if that might require stitching.” Another wave of nausea assaulted her at the reminder of what he and Maze had done but she pushed it down as his expression darkened.

“And apparently that didn’t fucking matter either,” Lucifer snarled, and Chloe jumped, not at his tone but the profanity. Him actually swearing was a rare occurrence. “Dad didn’t even care. I literally lit the bloody things on fire. With gasoline and a lighter. And… Amenidiel cared more about it that Father did.If he didn’t even care about that then … has he ever cared about any of what I’ve done? Has he, Chloe?”

“Uh … I … I can’t answer that, Lucifer,” she said slowly. “No one can but God. I ...it might mean that nothing is a big of a manipulation as you think it is. You might … it _might_ mean that He’s actually giving you what you demanded, free will. Free of manipulation, of guidance. Or it might mean that He really couldn't care less about you. I don't know. This is so far beyond me, Lucifer. I … a couple weeks ago you were my quirky partner and God was an allegory. Now … now angels, the devil, _God…_ they’re all real. And people are dying over it. We’ve almost died over it. And now there are new potential threats and ... and I can’t do this right now. Let’s go find Maze and borrow a needle, and patch you up and spend the rest of the day watching cheesy movies on my couch or … or having sex. Anything that doesn’t involve heaven and hell or … please. Just for today can we pretend that … that I’m just Chloe and you’re just Lucifer. No miracles. No devils. Just us?”

“We can,” he agreed readily, recognizing well the desperation of someone about to break under strain. “You’ve done amazingly well with this, Chloe. I’ve told you that before. If you need an evening free of celestial nonsense, then you shall have it. Monopoly, dominoes, poker? Something more exciting?”

“More exciting how?” she asked, invading his space, with a sultry grin. 

“I think you know,” he grinned back, reaching for her, hurt when she pulled away.

“I love you, but that’s a bit too kinky for me, sweetheart,” she said, stroking the back of his hand, which he just noticed was coated in his own blood. “Not really into sharing that particular bodily fluid. Bandages first. _Then_ more exciting board games.”

“Killjoy,” he muttered, allowing her to lead him down the stairs to the main room before leaving her in the kitchen making coffee. He sighed before knocking on Mazikeen’s door, calling her name.

"What do you want?" She demanded, yanking it open. "I already told you that I'd think about it. I haven't decided yet."

"Take all the time you need," he assured her. "I've promised the Detective an evening free of celestial nonsense anyway. Though if you decide you want it, you and I could step out for a bit. Just … be discreet if you ask. She's a bit rattled."

"Then what _do_ you want?" She asked. "We both know that you're not just here to say hi."

"Guilty," he agreed, holding his arm aloft. "Still have that needle and thread from home?"

"I thought you were invulnerable," she asked, poking into the gash in his arm with a finger and eying the apparent claw marks he'd kept turned away from her until then. It was deep and she could tell that it was tender from the way the skin around his eyes tightened and he swallowed. On her it would have scarred. On him, probably not unless…

"Is this what you mean by rattled? Did Decker manage to carve you up?" There was the briefest flicker in his eyes and she felt a wide grin split her face.

"She did! Hot damn I didn't think she had it in her," maze crowed. "I'll have to congratulate her. Looks like she did a number on you. Or was that consensual?" She asked, indicating her own neck.

"It was most decidedly not consensual, nor done by the Detective," Lucifer corrected. "And I am still invulnerable, hence the need for a needle from home. It's just … celestials still pack a punch and infernal steel… well it pricks. As well you know. I would appreciate you keeping better watch on those by the way. Did you even know that you're missing one?"

"Yeah," Maze said with a shrug, going to dig out the needle. She considered it progress when he waited to be invited rather than stalking in. "Two actually. I gave one to the kid when you all went missing. I figured it was celestial bullshit, not Cain being a dick. Decker's got one too. She texted me and asked for one last night. I didn't know it was because your twin, the fucking archangel Michael, was in town. Thanks for the heads up." Lucifer ignored her complaint, rolling his eyes.

"I told you as soon as it became relevant," he said. "And, as I said, I told him that you are under my protection. As to your blade, actually I have it. Next time you decide to give her something capable of killing me, teach her how to use it. Her knife skills are sorely lacking."

"You gonna tell me what happened?" She asked gesturing at his bruised, disheveled appearance and the knife cuts all along his left side. Though his complaints about Decker's knife skills suggested the nicks were from her.

"Do you actually care?" He retorted, sighing and sinking onto her bed wearily. He didn't particularly want to let Mazikeen know that the angel of nature and purpose had gotten the drop on the Devil. 

"If it affects me," she replied,sitting beside him and gesturing with her head for him to give her his arm. He laid it across her lap and she pinched the skin shut and started sewing. She wasn't gentle about it but she was efficient. A couple stitches in, she laughed softly. 

" Do you remember the last time we did this?" She asked, looking up at him fondly. "The last time I had to sew you up?" Lucifer thought a moment. It had been quite a while, he'd gotten rather good at avoiding infernal steel and they had made quite the pair when they fought together. Neither of them had been seriously injured in ages. 

"It was Kanze's rebellion, wasn't it?" He asked and she hummed in reply. "He broke your leg and ducked under my wing. I have to hand it to him, the bastard was quick. About flayed my ribs open before I could get a hold of him." 

"And then you ripped his heat from his chest with your bare hands," she reminisced, looking down and sewing another stitch. 

"And you bit it," he laughed,watching her deft fingers work. "I still remember the look on his face as you kissed him with his own blood on your lips. And then kissed me." He looked at her, her expression soft with memories of a simpler time. When it was just them against Hell. No feelings, no complications. 

He paused and sighed, his expression shifting to melancholy. "It was easier then, wasn't it, Mazie. You and me versus heaven, hell and everything in between. Just us. Fighting and fucking our way through eternity."

"I miss it," she admitted. "I miss what we were. It was easier than whatever this is. But … even if we went back, we couldn't go back, could we?"

"No," Lucifer agreed, shaking his head sadly. "There's too much hurt on both sides. We've both been cruel to the other as only those who truly know one another can. Maze, I swear to you, I only want to renew the bond to protect you. I will never use it against you or at all until I am given permission. We can't go back, but maybe we can go forward."

"As what? Friends?" She scoffed, tying the last stitch and bending down to bite the string off with her teeth. "We've never been friends, Lucifer."

"No," he agreed. "As I told the Detective the other day, you have to trust friends to look after your interests as well as theirs. Neither of us can rely on the other for that. We never could. Occupational hazard of our previous dynamic as King and Vassal. And neither of us trust the other. Not anymore. By allies. That we _can_ be. 

"Let's make a deal," he offered suddenly. "I won't seek your destruction if you don't seek mine or that of those I care for. As long as it causes me no harm, I will look after your interests and I will defend you from my family, unless you actively provoke them. How does that sound?"

"So what do you get out of it?" She asked, thinking through what he had said and seeing no benefit to him. Lucifer didn't do benevolence and there was no way that she was writing him a blank check. 

"Must I get something out of it, Mazikeen?" He asked rolling his eyes. She just looked at him incredulously. "Fine, I do get something out of you allowing me to renew our bond; if I know that you can contact me without relying on electronics then I know the child is safe when you watch her."

"You've gone soft, Lucifer," she informed him. "This deal has a much higher payout for me. And just to protect one human I already intended to protect. You used to exact higher prices. Pathetic."

"My newfound lenience is something you've benefited from, Mazikeen," Lucifer reminded her, grabbing a fistful of her hair. And pulling her face to his. "A millenia ago, what would I have done to you, hm? For plotting against me with my brother, my mother and Cain? For lying to me. Manipulating me. _Betraying_ me? How long would you have suffered before I _let_ you die? No, my dear, you should consider yourself lucky that I have "gone soft" elsewise your existence would be a very painful one."

Rather than apologize or to throw him off her, she pulled against his hold to run her tongue up the gouges in his cheek. He couldn't help the shiver that went through him at the memories of their times together.

"I've missed you like this," she whispered. "This you I will reforge a bond with. Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil. Not Lucifer Morningstar the club owner/consultant/pussy-whipped wuss. This you I can respect an alliance with." 

Without releasing her hair, he pulled the curved hellblade from his robe and slit her palm before roughly releasing her and slicing his own. Grasping her hand and lining up the marks he demanded her allegiance in Lillim. She swore her fealty in the same. He completed the ritual by accepting it, the wave of power coursing through her from their blood bond stealing her breath. And then he was there, a thrumming presence on the edge of her mind. She shivered as she felt his mind brush their bond, caressing it, testing it. It was intimate in ways she had forgotten and part of her wanted to consummate the bond as they once had. Instead she pushed against him, physically and mentally.

"It's there, it works. You're sewed up, get out," she informed him. She could feel his amusement cascading through the connection and part of her railed against the intrusion, while most of her was thrilled at the return of a connection she had missed. As he stood and left, moving more stiffly than he should, she sat alone and wondered if she hadn't made a huge mistake by binding herself once more to Lucifer.


	6. Deals Delivered

True to his word, as if he could be anything else, their evening was devoid of anything related to Celestials or the paranormal. They ordered in, watched movies, played cards and Chloe did everything she could to avoid looking at the bruises around his neck and claw marks on his face. Not that she could really avoid them or the raggedly stitched slash in his arm, but she could avoid remembering how they'd come to be there. She tried to pretend that it was just the result of a work mishap and that nothing otherworldly had happened. But the lie rang hollow even in her own mind and she didn't dare voice it because while he'd proved willing to engage in role play, that was too much to ask of him. Especially when she couldn't even sell it to herself. 

But no matter what lie she told herself--or what truth she ignored-- to keep from having to face the memory of his own sister trying to kill him, she couldn't avoid the fact that he was injured. Again. A fact she was viscerally reminded of when she cuddled too close on the sofa and he winced from the pressure on his ribs. It was a barely there twitch that he stilled before it became a full withdrawal but she felt it. With an apology, she scooted away, tears filling her eyes. He reached out for her, planning to direct her to a less tender spot, but she shook her head.

"I want to, but I won't risk hurting you," she told him, finality ringing in her tone. He nodded, trying to keep the sting of rejection, even though it wasn't _him_ she was rejecting, from his expression. Clearly he failed because her expression softened and she scooted closer again taking his hand and leaning her head on his shoulder.

"Better?" She asked. He hummed an affirmative, pressing a kiss to her forehead. His free hand came up to stroke the side of her face and he smiled as she leaned into it, her face turning to seek out contact as he withdrew his hand. 

"Much," he agreed, settling to watch the movie. It wasn't long before he felt her fingers ghost around the roughly stitched cut on his arm-- _designed_ to leave a scar (though on him it wouldn't)--before moving up his arm and across his neck, a barely there touch that trembled as it she was terrified by thought of hurting him but compelled to touch. She stopped short of touching where his sister had clawed him, the sensation of warmth but not touch there as she traced the lines. That wouldn't scar either, though Ariel had done her best to dig in as deeply as she could. He hadn't taken the time to look, but he wasn't sure that she hadn't struck bone. 

He held still and let her explore, knowing without looking that she was crying. He was far too familiar with her breathing pattern when she wept for his taste. And like the other times, there was nothing he could do to alleviate her pain. Not and honor their deal. Frustration welled up in Lucifer along with her tears because he had no idea how to reassure her that he'd be fine without breaking their deal. And that, he would never do. So he held her and let her weep and have whatever fantasy she had concocted to explain away his injuries that didn't involve his siblings. And that night, as nightmares assaulted her sleep, he did his best to soothe her as a human would, galled at having to restrain himself from relieving her discomfort by his own promise. Without the moratorium on celestial nonsense, he could have brought her peace as he'd once brought her sleep. 

But instead, he petted and held and reassured as she called his name in ways he never hoped to hear again and sobbed that he'd been dead. He held her close, ignoring the twinge in his ribs, and hoped the sound of his heartbeat below her cheek would stave off any further nightmares. He should have known better than to hope. It seemed that every time she drifted back off, she would reawaken screaming and whimpering and cling to him once more. Once, for a terrible moment she had believed them back in the bunker and it had taken turning on the lights to reassure her that Cain was not coming for either of them. It broke his heart to see such a strong woman so broken. A break she would never have suffered had he not been in her life. Still, she clung to him and wept for him, this miraculous woman that for some odd reason loved him, despite all that he had put her through. 

Even so, it was clear to him that she needed time to process before she was ready to face the more supernatural elements of his life and her new reality if she was to regain her sense of self. And he was determined that she would have that time. As much of it as she needed. He would protect her from facing anything celestial. Even his own nature until she was ready, which looked as if it would be some time. So, needless to say, he was shocked when she came down for breakfast the next morning, determination in her blue eyes, and demanded Maze's knife. Only the faintest hint of a tremor in her fingers betrayed her nervousness about her request. But even that was too much for him to willingly hand her a demon blade, at least not until she was more proficient with them. Rather than refuse her outright, he deflected.

"Whatever for, love? You've already decided it wouldn't help you against my family," he said, continuing to focus on the omelet filling and figuring that her asking for a _demon_ blade ended the moratorium on discussing Celestials. He watched her out of the corner of his eye as he moved the filling to a plate and began making the omelet itself. 

"To remove the grommets," she said, her gaze steady even as her voice shook. "I … they _are_ a liability. I see that now. You weren't just being … it doesn't matter what I thought you were being. You were right. And, and even if you weren't, it's _your_ body and you want them out and I promised so, let's do this." The unspoken _before I change my mind_ was audible to them both. He let it hang there for a moment, considering her offer before he shook his head. 

"No," he said simply, thinking, in part, of just how poorly she'd handled a knife and how sensitive his wings were. "I've changed _my_ mind. I mean to keep them. I was being irrational and foolish. You were right. Removing them now will do nothing but cause me pain. They don't hurt me by merely existing and they're only a liability if I allow them to be. They can stay."

"You hate them," she argued, wondering if he was refusing because he could tell she was uncomfortable with the idea of slicing into him to remove them or if he'd really changed his mind. She didn't want him to endure something he hated for her sake. Not again. Not when she was willing to do this for him if he still wanted it done. She just had to figure out how to tell him that she was willing in a way that he wouldn't misinterpret. 

"I hate them," she added, wanting to let him know that he wasn't the only one with animosity to the grommets. "I hate the memory of how they happened. What you forced yourself to endure to spare me. The reminder of Cain. Of what he did to you. To me. You can't tell me that you don't."

"Oh, I do," he agreed brightly. "I loathe them in a way I reserve for very few things in the universe. But as much as I hate them, I dislike the idea of you cutting into my wings and hurting us both more. They can stay. I won't ask you to hurt me." Her words the night before about refusing to watch him suffer rang in his mind, as did the knowledge that hurting him to heal him would likely be her hellloop if she was burdened by guilt at death. While he would do his best to ensure that she went to the Heaven, he wouldn't allow her to do anything that might add fuel to the fire should she end up in Hell. 

"I can do this, Lucifer," Chloe promised, a certainty he knew was misplaced on her face. "I'm sure it won't be as bad as fishing bullets was." He shrugged, not quite having the heart to tell her that she was right it wouldn't be as bad; it would be worse. Cutting intact flesh was far more difficult than following premade tracts. He was especially reluctant since a few days ago he'd been the one to demand her promise to do it. And threatened her if she reneged.

"You can't if I say no," he countered instead. "And our deal was that you would do it when the child was not around _if_ it was what I still wanted and it's not. So, no deal broken and you don't have to slice me open. We all win." He set the first omelet aside and began cooking the second. 

"Besides," he said with a glibness he didn't feel, "what the Doctor said the other day may have been mostly nonsense, but one bit might be right; they don't have to represent just the bad. Not that _any_ of what happened at their hands last week was in any way _good_ , but . . . I didn't allow this for Cain's sake or his benefit, Chloe. I allowed it for yours because I _desired_ to do so. You didn't ask it of me, didn't force it from me, I _chose_ to allow it to spare you pain. Just as you chose to allow them to harm you to spare me. And … I suppose that is a good thing." He chuckled darkly as she scoffed and stared at him incredulously. 

"Lucifer if you are going to try to tell me that what they did was _good--"_

"Not what happened, love, don't mistake me," he corrected, stoking her cheek smiling at her. "But how many people can say with the utmost certainty that the one they love is willing to sacrifice their own blood and comfort and freedom, more than metaphorically, for them and that they would do it again in a heartbeat. Neither of us can doubt the other's devotion. Not now. Not after what we've been through."

"Maybe," he continued hesitantly, turning back to the breakfast he was cooking as he tried to put his turbulant thoughts into words, "perhaps, we can see them as not a symbol of our captivity but one of my devotion to you."

"A wedding ring would have been easier," Chloe teased, trying for a lightness that she didn’t truly feel. "Less pain and stress and more visible to everyone, if a symbol is what you're after. Unless you intend to start parading around with your wings on display."

"Oh, I should think not!" He scoffed, moving to plate the second omelet and place it on the table. "Bloody things really are a menace. Not only do they render normal mortals catatonic they make it impossible to navigate small spaces. Always knocking into things, people. No. It's better if they are _not_ manifested."

"Not to mention they give away your moods," Chloe added around a bite of egg. "Kinda hard to be mysterious when your wings puff up like an angry bird at the slightest hint of agitation."

"They do not!" Lucifer argued, looking horrified that she'd figured out one of his tells but before she could reply, Maze cut in.

"They do," she agreed with a shrug. "Always have, though they were a bit more subtle about it before we cut them off. Maybe it's because these are new. You don't have as much control over them yet."

"That might be it," Chloe agreed, nodding. "It makes sense that new wings would be harder to control that older ones. As much sense as any of this makes anyway. Do you think that's really why they're so obvious?" 

"Probably," Maze agreed, while Lucifer wondered how either of them thought they had become experts in angel wings. Maze hopped up and sat on the table beside Chloe's plate, staring at her until the woman sighed and cut off half of her omelet.

"Get a plate," she ordered, rolling her eyes while Maze hopped down triumphantly retrieving a plate, a fork and a coffee mug which she poured half full of whiskey from the cabinet over the fridge before adding coffee and returning to the table. As Chloe slid the omelet onto Maze's plate the demon passed the liquor bottle to Lucifer. He added a generous pour to his own coffee, feeling Maze's eyes on him as he did.

"What do you want, Mazikeen?" he asked softly, her stare and pensive demeanor telling him that there was something. And the small signs of anxiety--the faint twitch of her eyebrow, the surreptitious check for exits and her insuring that Chloe was between them--made him think that she knew that he wouldn't like whatever it was. And she claimed that his wings were a tell. 

"I'll do it," she said, her gaze locking with his. "If you want them gone, I'll cut them out. We both know I'm better with a knife than Decker, know more about cutting into flesh. I'll be quicker. And if you lash out from pain, I can take a lot more before I'm broken. It should be me."

"No, Mazikeen," he said simply. "Bond or no bond, I will not allow you behind me with infernal steel. There's not enough trust there anymore." His mind jumped against his will to the absolute trust he'd had as he'd knelt before her in the sand for her to cut off his wings (much deeper and riskier cuts than the ones she would now need) with abandon. He had never imagined that she could ever hurt him if he didn't ask it of her. And now he couldn't imagine that she wouldn't. The knowing of it hurt more than he would admit.

"True," she agreed, her posture relaxing even as her expression fell, feeling the same loss he was feeling in her own being and through the reforged bond. "Didn’t even want to do it. i don't _like_ hurting you. I just . . . just felt like I _had_ to offer. I’m kinda glad you refused." He nodded and looked down at his own omelet. Chloe was back to eating, but Maze hadn't touched hers, or her coffee and was still watching him. Wondering what would happen, he raised his fork watching Mazikeen do the same and then set it back down turning to look at Chloe. Maze growled softly but mirrored the motion, setting her fork on the table. 

“What is your plan for the day, Love,” he asked, lifting his coffee and watching Maze do the same before setting it down beside him and fighting a smile as she repeated it, shooting him a glare. Having satisfied his curiosity of if she had fallen back on the habit of waiting for her king to eat before she would, he took a sip of his coffee, humming happily at the flavor. Whiskey really did make coffee better. Maze took it as an invitation and drank her own before devouring her half of Chloe’s omelet like she was starving. 

“Since you won’t be carving into me, that is?” he added before cutting off a delicate bite of his own. Chloe flinched slightly at his word choice and he offered her a small, apologetic smile. He had meant to make light of it, not to hurt her. Clearly he had failed. 

“I . . . I don’t have a plan,” she said slowly, looking away from him and moving her food with her fork. “Trixie is still with Dan. I'm still on leave. There’s nothing I really need to do. What about you? Any plans?”

“None,” he replied with a shrug. “How would you feel about fulfilling a different deal of ours today? It seems I still owe you a date, do I not?” She smiled warmly at the reminder of their previous, more successful, expedition into role playing. 

“You do,” she agreed. “So am I to be treated to the full ‘Lucifer Morningstar Experience’ trade mark included?” 

“If you’re agreeable,” he countered. “It won’t do to say that I took a lady away for a few days against her will.”

“I think I could be tempted,” she replied, smirking as he raised an eyebrow at the pun. Before he could reply, Maze made a disgusted noise and pushed away from the table with a squeak. 

“You two make me sick,” Maze cut in, standing and dropping her plate into the sink with a clatter. “And getting a room clearly didn’t help. I can smell him on you so I know he fucked you but . . . call me when you get over _this_ phase of the relationship. I just . . . bye.” With that she walked out, slamming the door behind her making Chloe jump and Lucifer roll his eyes at her attitude towards his happiness.

“So, our date,” he said, as if Maze hadn’t interrupted. “You said that you could be _tempted_ , so what exactly do you desire?” As he’d hoped, she laughed at the words that held no sway on her. “What?” he asked in mock indignation, “I need to know, darling! Part of the experience is having it tailor-made for your desires. First up, city or country for our excursion?” 

“Country,” she replied quickly enough that he knew it was a true answer. True to her words, he hadn't needed his gift to pull her desires from her. There was something more delicious about her gifting him with her desires rather than having them drug from the depths of her soul at his whim. Maybe Dad had known what he was doing when he'd made her so frustrating resistant to his charms. He stopped that train of thought before it could ruin his mood and instead focused on planning her perfect outing. 

“Hotel, B&B or,” he paused to shudder, “something rustic?”

“Something more private than a hotel,” she said slowly, “but less secluded than rustic. Am I being too difficult? It’s just . . . I’d like to know that other people are near. I . . . after last week I don't want to be --”

“You don’t have to explain, Love,” he cut in as her distress began to grow. “I’ve just the place in mind. Private but not secluded. It has some of the most beautiful vistas to be had. And if you pack quickly and we leave, we can be there before nightfall. No flying required.” She didn’t bother to ask how he knew of the place or how he knew that it would be available. There were only so many times she could hear him purr, ‘because I’m the devil, darling.’ before she knew what his go-to answer would be. And even if she had offered to cut into his wings, she wasn’t sure that she was in the mood to deal with the reminder of his otherworldly status. Not today. Today, they were just Lucifer and Chloe, going on a perfectly normal date. And that was how it was going to stay. 


End file.
